Wipe Out
by Secrets of the Fall
Summary: When Kurt finds out he can sense people's emotions, he meets Blaine, who cannot only read minds, but hold entire conversations in thought form. Is there a reason that they have these abilities, and if so, is the answer closer than they realize?
1. Introductions

**_Hello,_**

**_This is a future-fic and is very different than my other stories._**

**_I do not own Glee._**

**_Introductions_**

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><p><strong><strong>Kurt had always known he was different. He could feel it like he could feel the soft cashmere of his favorite scarf wrapped around his neck in the chill December air. At first, he thought that being gay made him different. He remembered the exact moment he had told his father he was gay. He was nervous, excited, apprehensive, but he was also ready. He thought that as soon as he said those words, 'I'm gay,' that the feeling would subside and fade away. It didn't. Although there was a huge weight lifted from his shoulders now that one of his hugest secrets was out in the open, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was still something different about him. Something he couldn't quite put his finger on. He knew when he lay awake at night he could feel something shifting underneath his skin; moving with his muscles and tendons and following the angled curve of his bones.

He was afraid to tell his father any of this. He knew that his father needed time to process the fact that he was, indeed, gay, so he shoved this foreign feeling deep into the recesses of his brain.

It wasn't until he graduated high school that the feelings slowly died away, numbing into something he could barely feel at first, and then disappearing all together. He could sleep deeply at night now that his body didn't feel like it was being ripped apart, and he could concentrate better during the day now that he wasn't plagued by thoughts of the strange sensations rippling just beneath his skin.

He had chosen to major in Psychology when he entered college. It wasn't his first choice, and three years ago, he would have never dreamed he would study the field. These days, he felt like he was drawn to it. He had a knack for reading people and he needed to understand what made them tick; from the bored tone of the cashier at CVS, to the annoyed huff of the customer at the supermarket who just didn't understand that you had to buy _two _Pepsis to get the third one free, he sought to understand why people behaved the way they did.

Now, trolling around the finest streets in New York City, Kurt continues to soak everything in like a giant sponge. It's early October of his Junior year, the days are becoming shorter and the dip in temperature gives Kurt an excuse to go shopping.

Just as he rounds the bend to spend an afternoon in the lap of luxury, his phone vibrates in his pocket and he flips it open, annoyance flickering in his eyes. He knows exactly who it is. Jason, his housemate, with all the best intentions in the world, knows Kurt almost as much as Kurt knows himself.

"Yes?" Kurt quips lightly as he tucks the phone in between his shoulder and ear. He can practically see the smile on the other boy's lips while he continues walking down the sidewalk.

"What are you doing, Kurt?" Jason asks, his tone matching Kurt's evenly. Kurt hears the shuffling of papers and assumes they ran out of printer paper again. They were always running out of paper, which wasn't all that surprising since Jason was an English major and wrote 24/7.

"Shopping."

Jason chuckles on the other line. "Mmhhm, I guessed that much. We both know what happens when you spend an afternoon shopping on your own. You do remember that time you maxed out your credit card and your dad had to wire money-"

"Yes, Jason. I know. I don't need you to remind me, thank you very much." Kurt sighs and holds the phone in his hand as he sits down on a nearby bench. He isn't one to usually sit on public benches, but he was too annoyed to care right now. He gingerly settles his bag on his lap and continues listening to Jason rambling on and on about Kurt's future and his responsibility to be able to support himself. It made Kurt call his housemate, 'dad' at times and question his motives.

Not that they didn't know their boundaries. They were unwritten and unspoken, but had both boys respecting one another, nonetheless. Kurt's love life was pretty non-existent, save for one date the past month and another semi-serious relationship his senior year of high school. It wasn't that bad. And besides, Kurt wasn't exactly fishing for the best catch at the moment either.

He hung up with Jason and sat back against the wooden bench-seat, watching the people pass by. They were all in such a hurry. Kurt could read the emotions on their faces as easily as he could read a book. People were so predictable. For instance, a young blonde woman rushed past him, her eyes screwed up in concentration and her mouth opening in surprise as she checked her wrist-watch. Kurt could safely say she was late for something.

He enjoyed sitting down in random places and watching people. Not in a, I'm-a-creep way either, more in a, look-what-you-can-see-when-you-pay-attention kind of way. It was fascinating. After a while, he glanced at the time on his phone and decided to head back to his apartment. Juniors and seniors could room in off-campus housing and Kurt was glad for the extra space.

Life was pretty easy for the time being. It was just school and living on his own for the next couple of months as the semester ran it's course. He was graduating in another year and would be able to do something amazing with his degree, even if it wasn't as much as a Psychologist with a Master's degree could do. That, and he would be interning somewhere; maybe a school, counseling clinic, hospital…he could feel the blood rushing through his veins at the very idea.

He smiled to himself. Life was definitely in his favor.


	2. Talents

_**Talents**_

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><p>"…<em>No, Mom. Yes, I understand. Mom, I'm on my break right now. Yes, I still have three hours of work left. Mom, if it bothers you so much you could have called me, you didn't have to create the connection. Alright. Bye."<em>

Blaine closed the connection and sighed as he put his face in his hands, his arms resting on the table in the employee break room. His head was quiet once more and the silence was like a fresh breeze. He took another sip of his Coke and stood up to throw his empty Cheez-it bag away.

A moment later, he turned to sit back down for two more minutes when his co-worker, Alex burst through the badly painted door and almost ran him over with the force of his enthusiasm.

"Jeez, Alex!" Blaine cried, jumping back in the small space and clutching his heart.

"Sorry, man, but I gotta tell you, I just sold one of our major antiques!" Alex explained, as he turned to open the fridge and get his lunch out.

Blaine capped his soda and put it back in the open fridge, his heart still racing. Alex was an interesting person. He was one of those people who could be too much at times and he always seemed a little too hyped up. He could get away with five hours of sleep and seemed to like _everyone._ Blaine usually found his head pounding after working with the other kid and was glad he could control his…talent.

"That's great," Blaine said, forcing a smile. "Was it the Grand Piano?" The Grand Piano at Musicians' Lair had been collecting dust in the back room for what seemed like forever before Alex came around and brought it out onto the sales floor.

Alex nodded excitedly, his mouth full of chicken salad. He closed the fridge and sat down in Blaine's vacant spot, who in turn, frowned.

"Yes. I was like finally!" Alex explained once he could talk. "I told the guy, I said, 'you have no idea how long this has been here.' It wasn't cheap either," he added as an afterthought."

"Rick will be glad," Blaine said softly. "I have to get back out there before he asks why we're both in here."

Alex laughed. "You're right, our boss is crazy. See you later!"

Blaine turned his back on the blond man and opened the door to the sales floor. A customer passed by complaining about guitar picks or something of the like. Blaine snorted and walked on to punch back into work in the other room.

His talent was, for lack of a better word, useful. In his second year of high school, he realized he could hear people's thoughts. He was sitting in Biology, when another boy exclaimed, "Damn, this class is so boring. I wonder what Tony's doing…" and the voice faded away. Blaine snapped his head up, searching the room with wary eyes because while Dalton students do swear, they do not swear where a teacher can hear them. But nothing happened. The students hadn't stirred. They all wore the same expressions of intense concentration or utter boredom. Even the teacher standing in the front of the room gave no sign that she heard the boy, she just continued talking about atoms and molecules and the like. Now Blaine was scared. Something was wrong. The voice was so clear but why had no one else heard it? It terrified him to no end and he spent the rest of the period on edge, his heart racing and his palms clammy.

After that experience, his entire immediate family knew. He chuckled as he remembered the day he told his mother that he heard thoughts in his head (It wasn't funny then but he could get a little humor out of it now). She immediately assumed the worst until he began conversing with her entirely in thoughts. She stumbled back and fell into a nearby chair while he tentatively spoke in thoughts to her for the first time. His family life was never boring or the same after that.

He considered himself a mind reader. Mind reading was something he equated with a door. A door can be open, closed, bolted shut, or just locked. It was quite simple actually. When he opened the 'door,' he could hear people's thoughts as if they were speaking directly to him. When he closed the door, their minds were shut out from him.

He could also speak to people in thoughts. He called this 'connecting.' This happened when the door was open, closed or locked, but never bolted. It was like knocking on someone's door. He could knock on whoever's door he wanted to connect with and vice-versa, form the connection, and carry on a conversation in thought form. He could carry thought conversations with multiple people, but it was tricky and required his utmost attention. He could even force connections with people, but it was against his moral code and was equitable to breaking and entering.

As for keeping a door bolted, he only bolted the door at night before going to sleep to prevent any accidental connections or thoughts from entering his mind. It had never happened before and he intended to keep it that way.

Now, six years later, he thought he had a good handle on mind reading. It took quite a while to figure out that it came naturally to him, like walking. Just like a baby, walking is a process. First, they roll over, sit up, crawl, and then take wobbly steps. After a while though, walking is second nature and when very young children want to go, they go. It was the same for Blaine.

When he was working or out of the house, he usually allowed people's thoughts to walk right on in. It helped if someone was thinking about shoplifting, and allowed him to understand what went on in people's heads when they did weird, unusual things or were rude.

His talent did have a downside though. He could only hear clear-cut, spoken thoughts. He could not access the unconscious entirety of the human mind, and in a way, he was glad because he knew that people didn't usually think in a neat manner; their thoughts were scrambled, and didn't make sense.

He slid his time card through the machine and walked back out onto the floor where a few people were lining up near the register with various musical books and assorted equipment in their arms. He sighed. It was going to be a long three hours.

After his shift, in which he had to make a list of orders, calm an angry customer, and wash almost ever surface in the shop, he exchanged his work shirt for a sweatshirt and walked out into the setting sun. It was four in the afternoon, but New York City was still bustling with life.

First things first: coffee. He would head to the small café on the other block before returning to his apartment to study for an upcoming exam he had later that week. Although he was only a part-time student, he had been able to merge two majors together _and _study online. It was like his personal heaven. Now if he could only get the coffee maker in his small kitchen to stop leaking, his life would be close to perfect.

He sighed and buried his hands in his sweatshirt pocket while he debated what he would order. He always went to the same café and found he could sit at a table near the windows for hours reading. Blaine read everything. In fact, he was currently finishing a very popular novel about a man on a seemingly impossible mission.

As he rounded the corner, the scent of strong coffee filled the air and washed over him, beckoning him forward. He felt a strange pull towards the shop and wasted no time walking to the heavy doors. Anticipation curled in his stomach and for a single second, he hesitated, _something _was pulling him towards the café.

Then he saw him: a boy, a year or two younger than him, was clutching a coffee in his pale grip, and the pull that felt so much like a thin rope, ceased its incessant tugging.


End file.
